Manchuria
by mugiwaragrl
Summary: My Hetalia version of the Manchuria incident in 1930something. Rated M for blood.


A single lightning cracked the cloudy night sky, briefly illuminating the men present, and signaling the upsoming storm.

On one side of the plain stood fifteen thousand Chinese men; badly armed, looking anxious and unprepared for the dreaded battle. On the opposite side, about 100 meters away, stood the Japanese army; several million trained, modernly armed, disciplined men.

One man from each side stepped forward and walked towards the center of the pield. Bothe were raven-haired and sported military attire. The long-haired one, from the small group, appeared anxious and walked rather hurriedly. The one with short hair, from the army, walked calmly and solemnly, almost mechanically.

Coming to a stop a few feet apart, China and Japan faced each other, for the first time, as enemies.

"What's the meaning of this, Japan?" China said with a low voice and a clenched jaw. "Is it a grudge you hold against me? Did I do something wrong when raising you?!"

"None of the sort," Japan replied icily, not an emotion visible on his stony expression. "I simply received orders that I must fulfill."

"But this is my land! _Our_ land!" the older yelled, pointing at the men behind him. "You can't simply invade another country's territory!"

Japan's expression didn't change as he raised his right arm. Then a shadow cast across his face, as he hissed, "Observe." He clenched his fist, and the first division of his troops charged forward.

China drew his jian, ready to defend himself against any soldier that confronted him. But he faltered when he noticed that, as they ran past Japan, they also avoided him. The screams of fear as they reached his own army brought him back to his senses.

China quickly spun around, intending to rush to the aid of his men, but he hadn't taken a single step when he felt the cold, blunt side of a katana against the side of his neck.

"Having a scar on your back would mean you ran from a duel," Japan said monotonously from behind him. "Save yourself the shame." He swung the sword. China skilfully blocked it with his own.

"I don't want to fight you!" he shouted at him.

Japan lowered his face. "I don't either." He attacked again; this time, China dodged.

"Then why are you doing this?!" He didn't understand his brother's behavior at all, it was like he was possessed.

"It's not like I have a choice!" He attacked again, and again.

China parried or dodged every swing of his katana for a long time, yet never dealt a blow. He couldn't bear to injure the man he had raised as a brother. But he knew something was wrong with himself when he barely managed to avoid an attack, which resulted in a shallow cut on his chest. He took a quick glance at his men, and gasped in horror when he saw them being coldly slaughtered by the Japanese army, tinting the ground with blood. The deaths of many citizens at once always weakened a country.

Japan took advantage of his distraction, and impaled his katana through China's shoulder.

China let out a shocked yelp. He dropped his jian as he was taken by surprise, and he was pushed to the ground. Japan knelt over him and pushed the sword downwards, burying it in the hard earth through his brother's flesh with a sickening squelch. China let out a loud, agonizing scream as he writhed against the blade, only worsening the sharp pain. A growing red spot stained his clothes around the wound, and a puddle of blood grew appeared beneath him.

Japan lifted himself up and looked down at him icily. Then, without retrieving his katana, he turned around and started heading back towards his men.

"J-Japan!" China called between groans of pain, but his brother didn't stop. He reached with his good hand to try to pull out the sword, but the massive loss of lives, and also the blood loss, drained his energy at an alarming pace, and he only managed to cut his fingers badly.

"KIKU!" he cried fiercely as he struggled to remain conscious.

Japan tensed and stopped dead at the use of his human name, clenching his fists, and China thought he could hear him murmur, with a knot in his throat, "I'm sorry, Yao."

China could hear the rain starting to pour on the Manchurian fields around them, and vaguely felt it drenching him, before everything went dark.


End file.
